Breathe
by alaricnomad
Summary: Takes place after 3x07 Eris Quod Sum. Peter/Claire.


**--Breathe--**

**Warnings: Rated for sexual content.**

There was something different about this Peter.

From the time they had first met to their time in New York, there had been a slight transformation from gentle-eyed dreamer to a more serious, determined man. Now, he seemed to have lost the last vestiges of that innocence. He was much more solemn, jaded, and distant. At the same time, he had never seemed so human. He had grown tired and world-weary, vulnerable, especially now without his powers. Her hero had fallen from his pedestal; she only hoped she could help him pick himself back up again.

It had been close to an hour since Nathan and his lady friend had taken their leave. She and Peter had been enveloped in an uneasy silence ever since. He was seated at the edge of the bed, blankly staring into space as she stood on the other side of the room, watching him worriedly. Several times, she smothered the urge to go to him, fearing she could be a cause of his upset. The decision was made for her, however, when Peter finally began to stir. He looked up at her with beautiful but haunted eyes, making her heart ache.

"C-claire." He rasped out her name, holding his hand out to her.

She didn't hesitate to take it. Barely realizing she was even moving, she suddenly found herself drawn to him, planted firmly in his arms. His hold was iron-clad, as if he was afraid she would disappear any second if he eased his grip. She didn't mind, it wasn't as if he could hurt her. She made herself more comfortable, shifting onto his lap. "I'm here."

With her reassurance, he released a heavy sigh, seeming to deflate as he sank into her. She cradled his head, stroking his hair. "I'm here now, Peter."

"I missed you," he breathed against her neck as he buried his face in her hair, taking in the comforting scent of her, "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you, too." She pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'm sorry, Peter."

He raised his head enough to look at her quizzically. "Why?"

She smiled weakly. "…I'm not sure…it just seemed appropriate."

Peter shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm the one who's sorry. There are so many times I should have been there for you when I wasn't."

"No," she sighed. "It doesn't matter anymore. All I care about is that you're here."

"Okay."

His mouth brushed against the curve of her cheek as he spoke. Claire shivered as his stubble scratched against her skin and she closed her eyes, tangling her fingers once more in his hair. "No more apologies. That's not what I need from you."

"What do you need?" He looked back up at her, gaze holding a strange kind of innocent kind of love toward her. "Just name it."

She felt like crying at the earnest, remorseful tone to his voice. There was a hint of the old Peter- eager to please, to make amends he wasn't responsible for in the first place. She hadn't meant to make him feel guilty. "Nothing, Peter," she whispered, caressing his cheek, "Just you. I just need you." She kissed his cheek. "I just need to know you're safe," his nose and eyes, "That you're warm," his chin, "That you're happy."

He huffed out a breathy laugh. "I can't remember the last time I was happy."

"Then let me take the pain away." She cupped his face, and guided his mouth to hers.

"Oh, God," he groaned, pressing himself further into the warmth of her. He'd found his new heaven- wet, hot and sweet, drawing him in deeper and deeper until he could barely think, barely breathe, knowing only the taste of her.

"Oh, God." This time, the sound of those two words falling from his lips was different and he drew away from her, aghast. "Claire, we can't…we-"

She cut him off, expecting this argument. "Don't think about it, Peter," she nuzzled against his throat, trailing heated kisses up to his ear. She caught the lobe between her teeth, earning an approving grunt from him as she playfully nibbled at his neck. "Just feel."

"Mmm," was his only response as he let the matter drop, far too weak to fight against the comfort she was offering him, lowering his head to seek her lips. He found them and they parted beneath him, his tongue thrusting inside to explore her.

His hands slipped just under the hem of her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her lower back. She let out a low moan and he skimmed them higher, the rough and calloused quality to his hands comfortably sensual against her smooth flesh. With a gentle urge of his hands, she raised her arms above her head, allowing him to pull over her top. He guided her back against the bed and she sank into the mattress, watching him as she waited for his next move.

He sat back, just giving himself a moment to look at her. The love and desire in his eyes, the reverence in his expression, was enough to take her breath away. She reached for him and he came to her, as if drawn by a spell. "You're beautiful," he whispered, crawling up the blankets to settle him over her.

She began to work at his shirt buttons, pushing the material aside. He shrugged it off, returning to her embrace as he angled his mouth over hers.

They rolled over and she straddled him, running her hands down his chest and stomach to feel the ripple of the muscles beneath her fingers. She scattered kisses everywhere she touched, looking up at him briefly with a glint of mischief in her eyes. She slipped her hands lower, into the depths of his jeans. Peter let out a low groan as she found his arousal, fingers wrapping firmly around him.

"Claire…" She stroked him, earning another hoarse groan from deep in his throat. He took her hands in his and wrapped them around his neck, knowing that if she continued, he would be finished before they'd started. He rolled them back over, pinning her beneath him, with a growl of, "My turn."

He kissed her again, this time taking full possession. He tore his mouth away to kiss the rest of her, nuzzling her neck. He scraped his teeth against a place he knew to be her weak spot, reveling in the gasp of his name, making his way down to the valley between her breasts. He took one into his mouth, cupping the other within his palm. He took his time to explore, hands and mouth gentle, as he touched her. He lightly caressed her sides, raising his eyes to hers. Her face was flushed with pleasure, lips curled into a languid smile, as she gave him a nod of silent permission.

He undid her pants, drawing them down to expose smooth, slender legs he'd fantasized more than once wrapped around him. He tugged down her panties, unable to resist letting out a moan as he encountered the warm wetness of her arousal. She clung to his shoulders as he pushed a finger inside her, soon adding a second as he returned his attention to her breasts. She writhed beneath him as he stroked her, hips moving to meet his rhythm as their eyes locked. Too much heat, too much stimulation, and she panted beneath him, desperate for the place in oblivion that would bring an end to her ache. A hot coiling tightening in her belly and she grabbed the back of his head to pull him into a rough kiss. The pleasure exploded inside her, and she sank back, exhausted, into the tenderness of his embrace.

As the aftershocks enveloping her body finally began to calm, she opened her eyes to see him hovering above her, his expression soft and open as he looked down at her, gently brushing the hair away from her face. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, taking in the tension in his face, the sweat beading against his forehead, the hunger glittering in his eyes. Knowing what he needed, feeling the desire he radiated begin to reignite the heat inside her, she reached between them, unbuckling his belt.

He hiked off both sets of bottoms and came back to her, settling between her thighs. He leaned down, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, and finally, her lips. "I love you."

He hadn't meant to say the words, hadn't thought to say them, but before he could stop them, they came tumbling unbidden from his mouth. Much to his relief, she only smiled, running her hands up his back to link them around his neck. "I love you, too."

She moved against him, kissing him hard on his mouth. He pushed hard against her, emphasizing his need as they parted and he growled out her name. He drew out each syllable of her name, nipping at her throat, his breath hot and panting against her skin.

She met his gaze without hesitation, finding herself staring into eyes burning with such intensity they seemed dark as night, dilated with desire and a want she felt echoed inside herself- a lust thrumming through their very blood. It may have been blood they shared but it was life and heat they both so desperately needed- a need that could only be fulfilled by one another.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, drawing his head up to kiss him once more, slow and languorous but just deep enough. It was a merging of passions, but understanding as well, and when she drew back for need of breath, she leaned her forehead against his, giving him a small smile of consent. There was something in her expression, a soft, open look that gave him pause, a certain warmth that smothered the raging lust, deafening the primal urges with the tenderness stemming from their connection. Looking into her eyes, the wicked flames of ardency in him faded into the steady, calmer passion. The warmth of wanting to love her, not possess her.

Claire guided him onto his back and gently straddled his hips, mindful of his injuries. Peter gave her a soft, warm smile, running his hands up her back, smooth, golden skin like silk beneath his fingertips. "I love you," he whispered again, unable to help himself, and the shy grin he received in return made everything he'd gone through over the last year, everything that led him to this very moment, more than worth it.

They settled themselves and gripping her hips, he slowly helped her ease herself down on him, encasing him inside her. There was pressure and a stretching fullness, but no pain- when was the last time she had felt pain, after all- and for a split second, she oddly wished she could feel the brief hurt of giving him her innocence, but then thought better of it. Even if she wanted that second to feel a little more human, this was about him, not her, and it'd be harder to give to him otherwise.

She was tight, impossibly tight, and thought his self-control lay in tatters, he resisted the urge to just take his pleasure, thrust hard and fast into the wet warmth of her wanting him until they were both screaming for release. He searched her face for signs of discomfort but found none. She squirmed around a little, experimentally moving against him, and her body relaxed against him.

"…Claire…?"

"Shh…it's okay," she whispered soothingly against his lipsas she wrapped her arms around him, invitingly giving her hips a little lift. They slowly began to rock together, a delicious friction building between them giving them exactly what they had been searching for. His chest rose and fell in harsh, panting breaths, watching her with wide, wondering eyes, letting her guide him as she slowly rode him. She leaned down to him, her hair falling around them like a silken veil, softly touching her lips to his without losing rhythm.

"Relax, Peter. Just breathe."

He did as she asked, letting himself meld into the natural rise and fall of their bodies, forgetting everything else. When she came, wriggling and mewling above him, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. When it was his turn, the hot rush of his own release was the most alive he had felt in months.

Holding her in his arms, too drowsy in their post-coital embrace to be concerned about consequences, it was the most peaceful moment he could ever remember. Peter Petrelli closed his eyes, nuzzled against the golden hair of his newfound lover, and for the first time in months, just let himself softly breathe, the rest of the world be damned.

**//Fin//**


End file.
